This is now my life. I’d better get used to it.
“Nothing,” I state with a smile.
Millie narrows her eyes at me. She doesn’t believe me in the slightest. Not in the fucking slightest, and I don’t blame her. Honestly, I wouldn’t believe me either. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times, and when she opens her mouth to ask me another question, I speak first so I don’t have to lie anymore.
“Can you take me to the bakery one last time? I mean, not really the absolute last time in my life I’ll see it or anything, but I think I need to today.”
I couldn’t help myself. One more lie for the day. I’ll try to be truthful until my vows, but for this, I need to lie. I can’t tell her that I’ll probably never come back again. That this is likely going to be my last time seeing the bakery.
Paul is not going to let me run around and do whatever I want, any way I want. I can already tell that he has plans, and they do not include me being wild and free. No matter what he signed, that’s just not going to happen. And Millie knows it just as much as I do, even if none of us says anything out loud.
“Posey is in the car, so is Dakota, but I know we can swing by the bakery before we head out to do hair and nails.”
Reaching down, I pick up my bag and slip out of the door, closing it behind me. Millie doesn’t make a move to walk toward the car, though. Instead, she tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching mine.
“Are the boxes labeled? I don’t think we’ll be coming back here before you head out for your honeymoon.”
I slide my tongue across my bottom lip, wetting it before I answer her. “They are. I only have three that I’m keeping. The rest are for donation.”
I expect her to turn and head toward the waiting car, but she doesn’t. Instead, her brows snap together, and she makes a noise in the back of her throat before she speaks. My heart begins torace at her words. Even though I made this decision, I put the items in the boxes, and she was here helping me a bit last night.
“You really only kept three boxes of things?” she asks. “I know I packed your kitchen and bathroom; most of those things weren’t really something to bring with you, but seriously, only three boxes?”
“I don’t need anything else,” I whisper. “Paul probably has everything taken care of.”
She narrows her eyes and then dips her chin. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else. I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore anyway. I’m ready to just get this show on the road and get it over with.
I can’t believe I’m thinking about my own wedding this way. Get it over with. Almost like it’s an annoying task I have to get through. Which, to be fair, it feels that way. It’s been weighing so heavily on my mind day in and day out for weeks. It’s like a Band-Aid that needs to be ripped off—marriage.
I’m not sure it should feel this way, but then again, not everyone gets married the way I am. Not everyone marries someone they’ve only really met once. And not everyone leaves their entire world behind in an effort to keep the peace and protect their family and friends.
VIKING
Stupid.
That’s what I am.
Stupid.
For whatever fucking reason, Ivy thought it was prudent to send me a text early this morning letting me know what time the wedding was going to take place. And now I’m filled with a panicthat I don’t think I’ve ever felt before as I ride straight for the goddamn church.
I don’t get far, at least not immediately. Just over the North Carolina border, I see one of the Front Mob Family’s trucks on the side of the interstate. As much as I want to keep riding, I don’t.
Pulling off onto the side of the road, I frown at the sight of the truck. It’s unmanned. I only know it’s one of theirs because of the insignia on the cab. It’s a blackFwith a red circle around it. Hard to miss.
Parking my bike, I kill the engine and start to walk around the truck, checking shit out. No driver, no other bikes, not a single fucking soul. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I unlock it before finding the camera app and taking a few pictures.
I can’t text any of my fellow officers. They’re all getting ready for the wedding. No doubt putting on suits and shit. Something I wasn’t looking forward to at all, but I would have done it. For her. Not that it matters anymore, because it truly fucking does not.
Finding the name of someone I know won’t be at the wedding, I touch the call icon. It rings once, twice, three times before he picks up. I don’t know who is supposed to be on this run. I haven’t been in the club and part of these decisions in weeks. It’s time for me to get back to work, apparently.
Maybe this is what I needed to take my mind off Lainey, except when Scar picks up the phone, it doesn’t take my mind off her, not in the goddamn slightest. What it does is piss me off because I’m not there already. I’m here with this abandoned truck instead.
“I’m standing right over the South Carolina border, on the side of the highway next to an abandoned Front Mob Family truck. Who the fuck are we missing?” I demand.
There is a moment of silence, and I wonder if the nomad doesn’t know what the fuck is going on or what, but then he speaks. And what he says confuses the fuck out of me, because this is nothing I would have thought was going on.
“Two prospects and Shocker were on that run. They were supposed to be back before the wedding.”